by Sloan Archer
The receptionist ended her conversation on the phone and then pushed back from her desk. “Follow me,” she commanded.
It took great effort to make my feet move. “It will be okay,” Robert said as he reached out and took my hand.
The receptionist stopped. “No touching, please.”
I let go of Robert. “Why?” I demanded before I could stop myself.
She shot me an annoyed glance—irritating human—and then pointed to the cameras positioned every thirty or so feet along the hall ceiling. Of course they’d be watching us. “Their rules, not mine.”
Our walk ended in a boardroom that could have doubled for a small aircraft hangar. Entering it was like traveling forward in time a couple centuries. In contrast to reception, the room was sleek and modern in decoration. I scanned the floor for signs of blood spatters and was relieved to see none. At the far end of the room sat a long table that could accommodate at least twenty on either side. It was positioned so that it was horizontal to the doorway. The table was made from a single piece of wood, which I found astounding. I also found it astounding that I was thinking of furniture design when seated at the table sat an assembly of stony-faced vampires.
I looked over at Robert, wondering if he was regretting his decision to turn himself in as much as I was. It occurred to me then that the only other times in my life that I’d been so scared were when I was being threatened by other vampires—Michael, James, and the assassin on the beach, specifically. I nearly barked out a demented laugh at the revelation, which probably would have been a very bad idea. These vampires didn’t seem like jokey types.
The receptionist led us to two empty chairs opposite the vampires at the table. The chairs were situated ten feet apart, probably to abide to their no touching rule. There were about a dozen men and five women. None of the vampires moved, and all of their eyes were trained on me.
Scratch that. All but one of the vamps had their eyes on me. The exception, a chesty woman who looked about twenty-eight in human years, was eating Robert alive with her gaze the same way a woman ravenous with PMS would eyeball a slice of chocolate cake. I would have almost preferred hostility, because the woman’s attention was lustful, like she was aware that I was aware that she was eyeing my boyfriend. And she knew that I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Worse, she was gorgeous with a capital G, with white blond hair that bordered on silver, and deep blue eyes. She was lean, and though she was seated, I could tell that her legs extended up to her ears. I didn’t like her one bit. I’d never been in a fight with a woman in my entire life, but the Pelville redneck in me wanted to smack her brazen face—sorry, but no woman should ever look at another woman’s man in such a way. Thankfully, my practical side squelched all the violent ideas I had flowing through my head. Blondie, being vampire, would have squashed me underfoot before I had the chance to hurl a single insult.
“You’re perplexed,” one of the vamps said, and I jumped about ten feet in my seat.
I’d been so startled by the vampire’s thick Irish accent that I hadn’t realized that he was speaking to me. For a horrible moment my lungs seized and I couldn’t find my voice. This was far worse than standing in front of a classroom naked.
I reminded myself that I was there on my own volition (sort of) and now was not the time to screw things up by being chicken. I met the vampire’s eyes, which were butterscotch gold. He was coffee black, with thick greying dreadlocks down to his waist. He’d been turned at a later age. My guess was that he’d ceased being human around sixty. He couldn’t have weighed much more than me, but anyone with half a brain could detect his I will snap you like a twig if you dare piss me off vibe from ten miles away. He was dressed like a quintessential rock star: dark eyeliner, thick rings on every finger, vest over his shirtless body, black leather pants. He was striking in an unspeakable sort of way, the same way a Francis Bacon painting makes your breath catch in your throat. This was a vampire that compelled strangers to look twice, but not for too long.
“You aren’t as I anticipated,” I said diplomatically.
“Ah,” said a different vampire, a boy with chin-length strawberry hair and reddish-brown eyes to match. “And what was that?” His accent was Australian, another surprise. His freckled skin was so pale that it looked almost blue under the surface. He was seated next to Dreadlocks, but was a lot younger, about seventeen.
It was funny to think that some of the vampires youngest in appearance could very well be the oldest as far as actual years spent on earth went. From what I’d ascertained while hanging out with vamps, this usually seemed to be the case. Thousands of years ago, most humans didn’t live much beyond what people now considered middle-aged, so a boy in his late teens would have been deemed a man if he was turned vampire in a year that ended with B.C. On the other hand, recent vampires—those who’d been turned within the last century or so—tended to look older because, well, who wants to spend all of eternity trapped as a teenager? This vampire-teenager in particular was dressed in attire contradictory to Dreadlocks: tailored pinstriped suit, bowler hat, shiny black dress shoes. It was like they’d received invitations to two separate events: a rock concert and a high-class wedding.
My only choice was to continue, but I picked my words carefully. I wished Robert weren’t sitting so far away. “I was expecting . . . I don’t know, everyone to be sitting in gold thrones and wearing long velvet capes. You’re so . . . motley.”
All of the vampires but one found this amusing. They cracked fanged smiles; a few even chuckled. Guess which one remained a sourpuss. Without taking her eyes off Robert, the blond patronized, “Such a clueless little human.”
Robert scowled and everyone else ignored her. Take that, bitch!
A small Japanese woman in a navy skirt suit that I could have sworn was by Seraphim Blythe spoke up. “Yes, we pride ourselves on multiculturalism.” Multiculturalism indeed. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have thought I was attending a conference for the UN.
A man with handsomeness that rivaled Robert’s took charge. He was seated in the center of the group. I shifted in my seat because it was difficult not to gape at him.
This vampire was all man: muscular, prominent nose, wavy black hair that just grazed his cheekbones, mocha brown eyes. And, my-my-my, he was wearing a kilt that showed off powerful legs that were cut like marble. I pondered the rumor about men wearing nothing under their kilts—whether or not it was true. Some vampires could read minds, and at that precise moment I was so happy Robert wasn’t one of them.
Pull it together, Montgomery. This vampire is contemplating killing you. I reached back and pretended to scratch my neck, but what I’d really done was give myself a firm pinch.
The kilted vampire must have been high-ranking. The room quieted when he began to speak. “We talked on the phone, Mercy,” he said with a dazzling and familiar Scottish lilt. Wowza! It sounded like he was singing to me. You love Robert—you love Robert—you love Robert. “I am Joseph.”
Joseph’s voice didn’t match the image of him that I’d created. I’d expected him to look more like the freckled kid in the bowler hat and less like the kind of man you’d see on the cover of a men’s health magazine. Guess you can never tell with vampires.
I nodded primly. I wondered if they’d expected me to kiss the ring on his finger or something. No way was that going to happen, not after all the shit they’d put me through.
“Hello, Joseph,” I said. They looked like they sought more from me, so I tacked on, “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”
“It looks like you’ve brought a vampire friend,” purred Blond Bitch in a sultry French accent. Her eyes still hadn’t left Robert. “I’m Serena. Who might you be?”
“I’m Mercy’s fiancé,” Robert declared. Fiancé? Um, that was news to me.
I decided to roll with it. Perhaps Robert being more than my boyfriend had some significance amongst vampires, like he had claim on me like property, which I didn’t appreciate.
But I sure as hell wasn’t going to choose that particular moment to launch into a lecture about archaic sexist attitudes.
“Does your fiancé have a name?” Joseph asked me.
I gave Robert’s name and every vampire in the room gasped.
“Not possible,” uttered the boy in the bowler hat. “Robert is human.”
“Not anymore,” Robert said, baring his fangs.
Big mistake. The VGO took this as an act of aggression, which I know Robert hadn’t intended. Maybe his brief stint as a human had made him out of practice with vampire customs.
Trying to reign in their outrage, I declared, “Robert’s vampirism is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Joseph quieted his associates. “I admit, we were taken aback when you offered to turn yourself in.” A few of the vamps muttered words of agreement.
Blond Bitch commented, “I couldn’t care less what she has to say.”
“Then it’s a good thing you don’t speak for all of us, Serena,” sniped Dreadlocks. I wanted to give him a high-five. He turned to me. “I was bowled over by your audacity, Mercy. I think most here share my outlook.” There was more nodding.
“In our centuries of operation, not a single human has ever surrendered to the VGO,” Joseph declared. “Not one. I cannot promise that we will decide to let you live. However, as I stated on the phone, I can assure you that you will be unharmed while you state your case. Think of it as a reward for your bravery.”
“And it had better be interesting after we’ve all been gathered here,” sneered Serena.
“Enough!” growled Joseph.
Serena yelped in defeat.
I bit back a smile.
“Thank you for hearing me out.” I hoped I’d sounded gracious and not terrified. I detested Serena, but she did have a point. What I had to say had better sound good if Robert and I had any hope of getting out of there alive.
21
“Please, continue,” said Joseph. “There will be no more interruptions.” No need for him to clarify whom that comment was directed toward.
Serena looked as if she’d just bitten into a ripe cow patty. Serves you right, you lippy bitch.
I hadn’t gone in there with a speech prepared for fear of sounding insincere. Promise or no promise, if the VGO suspected that I was being deceitful, it was game over.
“I’ll get right down to it,” I began. “I’m sure all of you are aware that my blood changes vampires human, and that Leopold Sorin used my blood to create a serum.”
I studied the faces of the vampires before me. None of them were surprised by what I had to say. Joseph had been earnest in his claim, though; nobody interrupted me, though they did seem to like me less after the reminder about my blood. I looked over at Robert, who smiled encouragingly.
“However, what none of you know is that the change my blood elicits is temporary.” The vampires exchanged a few skeptical looks. “As this is a recent discovery, it is a detail not even Leopold knows, though it is absolutely true. Any vampire who drinks my blood to become human will ultimately revert to vampire.”
Now I got the reaction I was expecting, which was a combination of curiosity and shock. Still they said nothing, so I went on to explain.
I told the VGO everything, start to finish, beginning with Robert’s sudden illness in San Francisco and ending with his return to vampirism in Bali. I revealed Leopold’s findings in the lab and my inability to become vampire. The only segment I omitted was the part about Jerry decapitating the assassin on the beach, fearing that the VGO would seek retaliation because he’d helped me.
By the time I’d finished, the group appeared deep in thought. I’d said all that needed saying, so I clasped my hands on my lap and pressed my lips together. I was tempted to elaborate, but I knew things could curdle fast if I kept yammering just to fill the silence. In times of grave uncertainty, it’s usually wisest to zip it.
“What you have told us is very fascinating,” Joseph said. “And I am very pleased for Robert. But none of this changes the fact that you gave your blood to Leopold so he could develop his serum.”
“I did not!” I half shouted.
Joseph raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Are you positive about that? You wouldn’t be fibbing to save your hide, would you?” Man, the vamp was hot, even though he was delivering a threat.
“Is that what all of this has been about? Me giving Leopold my blood? I’ll have you all know that Leopold lied to me . . . and to Robert. The whole reason I gave Leopold my blood in the first place was so that he could develop a cure for Robert. Never in a million years would I have given him a drop if I’d known what he was planning on doing with it.”
“So you are saying that you don’t believe vampires should be eradicated?” asked Dreadlocks.
I shook my head vigorously. “No way. I like vampires. No, I love vampires, obviously.” I gestured towards Robert. “My best friend is a vampire. I tried to become one myself, but it didn’t work. So, with this in mind, why would I want to hurt you guys?”
“You understand that we will confer with Leopold to see if he corroborates what you’ve told us,” said Bowler Hat.
“Go ahead,” I snorted. “But don’t expect any real honesty from Leopold. He’ll look out for number one.”
Joseph smiled, “Yes, that does sound like Leopold.” He sat back in his chair and thought a moment. “It’s evident that you’re being heartfelt, Mercy, and I do feel for your plight. I think all of us present do. But you are a loose end, whether or not you aim to be. It is not the VGO way to leave a . . . situation unresolved. It’s a pity because you are a very beautiful woman.” Translation: You’re hot but we’re still going to kill you.
Great.
I sighed. “I figured that would be your response, which is why I’ve come with an offer.” Now the group was interested. I imagined very few individuals, whether human or vampire, had ever tried to negotiate with the VGO. “But before I reveal what that offer is, I’d like for you to allow Robert to say a few words.”
Joseph consulted with the group. “You have again amused us with your boldness, Mercy. We will allow Robert to speak, but he’d better make his point quickly.”
I nodded at Robert and he stood. “I was a vampire for over a hundred and sixty years before I became human again,” he said to the group. “Compared to many of you, this is not a very long time. So, I can only imagine what it would be like for a vampire to see the sun again after five hundred or a thousand years—two, three thousand years—without it. For me, it was indescribable.
“After drinking Mercy’s blood, I was able to experience many things I’d long forgotten as an immortal: drink wine, eat a fine meal, watch the sun rise . . . swim in the surf with sunshine upon my back. However, in my heart, I am vampire. Immortality is a gift I would not return, no matter what the reward. Mercy’s blood can provide the best of both worlds.” Robert bowed humbly to the group. “Thank you for hearing me out.”
“That was a touching speech, but we are no closer to identifying what it is that you’re offering,” said Joseph.
“I don’t wish to test your patience, so I will make it fast,” I said hastily.
“That would be wise.” Joseph gave me nod. “Carry on.”
“What I’m offering is a sort of vacation into humanism. As you may or may not already know, the serum Leopold developed is permanent. Once a vampire has received it, there is no going back. They will remain human until the day they die. The effect of my blood, however, is temporary. How long it lasts may depend on the age of the vampire, so the results may vary. Regardless, this means that you will be able to walk in the sun again—do a whole host of other things only humans can do—without having to give up your immortality.” I took a deep breath. “I’m offering to give the VGO my blood.”
Nobody jumped up to slay me, so I seemed to be headed in the right direction. I listened in as the group discussed my proposal. There were a few naysayers, Serena the most outspoken (no surprise there),
who wanted to kill me just to be rid of the nuisance. The majority, however, were excited at the prospect of seeing the sun again. Robert was more relaxed, too, which I took as a good indication.
“And what is it that you want in exchange?” Joseph asked. “Money?”
“No, I am not seeking monetary gain from our deal.”
The group scoffed collectively. “From what we’ve witnessed, humans can be quite greedy,” said Dreadlocks.
I shrugged. “I’m not like most humans, I guess.”
“No, you most certainly are not, Mercy Montgomery,” flirted Joseph. Robert made a peeved humph sound. “So what is it that you do want?”
“I want to be left alone,” I said. “I want all of you to stop trying to kill me. I want Robert left alone, and my friends, too: Liz, David, and Seraphim . . . even Leopold. And I want you to cover David’s hospital bills, since it was your associates who put him there.” I added reluctantly, “And I don’t want you to kill Mathew, either.”
This bewildered the group. “Really? Your treacherous mate? You do not wish to see him drained?” asked Bowler Hat.
“He’s not my mate anymore,” I made clear. “And I detest him, yes. And he’s a complete idiot. But I would not feel right if you murdered him on my account.”
Joseph asked, “And how can you be so sure that we can be trusted—that we won’t take your blood and then kill you anyway?”
“I suppose I can’t be sure. But from what I’ve heard, the VGO pride themselves on having honor,” I replied. “Look, I’m no fool. I’m aware that any one of you could leap out from your chair and end me before I realized that I’d even been, uh, ended. But I hope you won’t. And I also know that you would have continued trying to kill me if I kept running, which is why I came to you. I don’t want to live my life in fear. I hope that if we can come to an amicable agreement, no more blood would need to be shed. If occasionally giving you my blood is what it takes for me to stay alive, then that is what I’ll do.”
